THE DATE

Jungkook did it. He finally asked her.

It happened on their walk home, just outside her apartment building. The night was quiet, a hush settling over the city like it was holding its breath for them. He stopped, turned to her, and took her hand—warm, steady, trembling just a little.

Moonlight spilled across his face, casting soft shadows along his cheekbones, catching in his eyes. He looked like something out of a dream, like he was lit from the inside out. And when he smiled—just a shy pull at the corners of his lips—Aera felt the ground tip beneath her feet.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” he whispered.

For a second, she just stared at him, wide-eyed, her thoughts spinning too fast to catch. Her heart kicked against her ribs, and her fingers had gone cold in his. But somehow, everything inside her felt still. Clear. Like her body already knew the answer before her brain could catch up.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He grinned—the kind of smile that made her forget how to breathe, let alone stand still. Then, without warning, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Bold. Unexpected. Sweet. Her breath caught in her lungs. Her hand flew up to the spot, still warm. Her face flushed, nerves buzzing beneath her skin. He was close, close enough to undo her with a look.

Jungkook smiled like he knew exactly what he was doing. Like she was a secret he didn’t mind keeping.

“My place. Tomorrow night. I’ll be waiting.” He turned, took a few lazy steps away, then glanced back with a wink. “Wear something cute. And comfortable.”

She didn’t move. Couldn’t. Her hand stayed where his lips had been, her heart crashing against her ribs like it wanted out.

Even now, just thinking about him, heat flared up her neck. “Okay. Get it together,” Aera whispered to herself. It wasn’t even noon, and already she was spiralling. If she kept this up, she’d stress herself straight into a fever and end up cancelling. And that wasn’t an option. She’d waited too long for this. Wanted him too much. No way she was letting this slip through her fingers now. But, the most important question of her life still loomed: What the hell was she supposed to wear?

Aera stared at the disaster zone that was her closet. Dresses hung like they were judging her—too formal, too short, too try-hard. She rested her chin in her hand, frowning like she was solving a moral dilemma. Jungkook had said cute and comfortable, but all she could focus on was the way he’d looked at her. That slow, knowing smile. The gleam in his eyes. Like he already knew how the night would end. Maybe he was planning to go there.

Maybe she was finally going to feel something more satisfying than the buzz of her vibrator. Heat pooled low in her stomach, and she crossed her legs on instinct, exhaling hard through her nose.

Focus, Aera. You can’t combust before the date even starts.

Was having sex on the first date a terrible idea?

Aera didn’t even overthink it—just fired off the question to the one person who would give her an honest answer with zero sugar coating: Jiyoung. She’d get teased for sure, but at least she’d get an answer. And probably a profanity-laced pep talk. Aera paced a slow circle around her bed, then collapsed back onto it just as the text marked seen and those little typing bubbles popped up like a warning siren.

Jiyoung:

WHO IS IT????

Came in first.

She barely had time to groan before the next one lit up her screen.

Jiyoung:

IS IT THE JUNGKOOK GUY???? IF YES THEN TOTALLY GO FOR IT. HES A FINE ASS MAN. MAKE HIM FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR KITTY. CLAIM THAT SHIT.

Aera smacked her forehead with her phone. Yep. Exactly the kind of emotional support she expected. Loud, unfiltered, slightly feral—and somehow exactly what she needed. A shy smile pulled at her lips as she giggled into her phone. Honestly, maybe she shouldn’t have sent Jiyoung those pictures of Jungkook back when he was just a mystery and a daydream. Too late now.

Aera:

Okay. Anything else I should know?

The reply came almost instantly, nearly making her combust on the spot.

Jiyoung:

Wear that smexy lingerie you bought for yourself ;)

and don’t 4get to fill me in on every detail tomorrow. Have fun 👅🍑🍆💦

Aera let out a squeak and dropped her phone like it had personally offended her. Her face was on fire. God, Jiyoung had zero chill. And yet… she wasn’t entirely wrong. She should finally wear that lingerie, the one she’d tucked away like some secret weapon. She bought it on a whim, thinking it might make her feel powerful or pretty or something in between. But she never put it on. No right moment. No one worth the effort. Not until now. How Jiyoung knew anything about it, of course, didn’t matter. What mattered was that Aera should probably start getting ready. God knew she’d take her sweet time getting there—flushed, flawless, and a little dangerous—for him.

She didn’t want to spiral into overthinking, not tonight. But it was hard not to. Especially when Jungkook had been acting like a walking contradiction—too sweet, too attentive, too everything. Sending signals she wasn’t sure she was supposed to catch. The teasing. The glances that lingered. The way his voice softened when he said her name. It was all a sharp turn from the old Jungkook—the quiet, almost distant boy who used to barely meet her eye. This Jungkook had swagger and softness wrapped up in one ridiculous, muscle-bound package. Sure, she loved him either way. But given the chance, she’d happily blame every inch of him for whatever unfolded tonight.

Somehow, she doubted he’d complain.

At exactly seven o’clock, Aera stood outside Jungkook’s apartment, her heart ticking in sync with the second hand on her watch. The spring air was cool, but her nerves kept her warm. She wore a soft, blush-toned wrap dress with delicate ruffles and short sleeves—cinched at the waist, drifting just above her knees. The fabric moved with her, light as a breeze. Bow ties knotted at the front added a quiet elegance, like a secret only she and the dress shared. Around her neck, a delicate diamond pendant caught the entrance light, and her heels—modest but graceful—gave her just enough height to feel like she belonged next to him.

She liked how she felt in this dress: a little romantic, a little bold, a lot like herself. But more than anything, she liked how she’d feel standing beside Jungkook—how he’d look at her with that soft, unshaken gaze, like she was something delicate he didn’t want to break. Like she mattered in a way that was terrifying and tender all at once.

Smiling to herself, she smoothed the front of her dress and lifted a finger to ring the bell. Her pulse jumped, nerves threading through anticipation. She fixed her bangs with a practiced touch, tightened the twist of her hair, and straightened her spine just as footsteps padded toward the door. A click. A turn of the knob. The door opened with a hush. And there he was—Jungkook, freshly showered, the faint scent of something clean and woodsy trailing from him. His white shirt was rolled at the sleeves, untucked over dark jeans, and his hair was still damp, falling just above his brow.

Aera’s lips parted in a quiet smile, wonder blooming in her chest. He looked like the beginning of something wonderful.

“Hi,” Jungkook said, opening the door wide with a blink of surprise. “You’re… early.” A small laugh slipped out of him as he reached up to rub the back of his neck—half bashful, half amused. Across from him, Aera’s smile wavered, dipping just enough to betray her nerves.

“Hi,” she said quietly, her voice softer than she meant it to be. For a second, it felt like she might retreat, like the timing had thrown her off. But before the thought could fully settle, Jungkook stepped aside and held the door open wider.

“Come in,” he said, his tone warm, inviting.

“Sorry,” she murmured as she stepped past him, barely meeting his eyes. He chuckled again, and when she turned to glance at him, that familiar bunny smile was already in place, bright and a little boyish.

“It’s fine,” he said. “But you’re gonna have to wait a bit. Dinner’s not ready yet.”

“Oh,” she breathed, relaxing a little. “That’s okay. I like waiting… sometimes.”

He tilted his head, amused. “You’re a weird one.”

She smiled now, a real one. “You invited me.”

“True.” He closed the door behind her, grinning wickedly. “Guess I’m into weird.” 

There he went again—flirting like it was second nature now.

Aera didn’t know when he’d gotten so good at it. Or how. And she definitely didn’t understand why it worked on her every single time. She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were already dusted pink, and her throat had gone dry. The worst part? She couldn’t even come up with a decent comeback. Still, she refused to let him see the effect.

“What are you cooking?” she asked, turning away and pretending to inspect his apartment like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. Jungkook didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slid his hands into his pockets and strolled past her, close enough that their shoulders touched. Aera stilled at the brush of contact, caught in the sudden quiet between them.

As he passed, he leaned in, his breath brushing her ear.

“Steak,” he murmured, voice low and teasing.

Her breath hitched. Of course it was steak. But did he have to say it like he was seducing the word itself? It was only dinner. That’s what she told herself, anyway. She’d barely stepped through the door, and already he could read her.

Aera cleared her throat and, just out of his line of sight, lifted a hand to fan herself.

The heat in the room was undeniable. Or maybe it was just him.

“Do you need help with anything? I can give you a hand if you want with the cooking,” she offered, following Jungkook into the kitchen. The space surprised her. Sleek counters, clean lines. A small table ran parallel to the counter, offering a clear view into the living room. It was a one-room apartment, but it was warm. Thoughtful. Like him, maybe.

“Wouldn’t that ruin the idea of a perfect date, hmm?” he said, voice light but teasing. “I’m supposed to be a gentleman and please my lady. Letting her do the work would ruin all my charm, wouldn’t it?” He raised a brow, the corner of his mouth curling into a crooked smile before he turned to open the oven and check the steak.

Aera blinked at him, caught off guard. Did he just call her ‘my lady’? She didn’t know what pulled her forward. Only that, suddenly, she was rounding the counter, drawn to him like gravity. She stopped just behind him, close enough to feel his warmth. When Jungkook turned, he got momentarily startled. His breath hitched, looking into her eyes. They were steady, searching—dark pools filled with something he hadn’t expected: recognition. Understanding. As if she saw through him, past the easy charm, straight to the parts he rarely let anyone see. It disarmed him.

He hesitated, the walls around his heart faltering.

“What is it?” he asked softly, cupping her face with his right hand. “Did I do something wrong?”

Aera shook her head, her hand rising to rest over his. His palm was warm against her cheek. She closed her eyes for a beat, grounding herself in the moment.

“No,” she whispered. “You did something right.” She blinked up at him, a slow smile pulling at her lips.

“What?” Jungkook asked, his voice dipping low, eyes softening like shades of dusk. His lips curled to match hers, as if her smile lived on his face too. Aera threaded her fingers through his.

“I’m glad you’re trying,” she said. “I don’t know what changed, but I’m grateful. For how it turned out. For you. For us.” Her voice caught, just slightly. “But... I want you to know that it’s enough. Everything you’re doing is already enough. You don’t have to try too hard, you know?”

Jungkook let out a breath, long and unsteady. The weight in his chest loosened.

“I know,” he said. “But I want to do it right. For once. No shortcuts, no running. Just... something honest. We lost so much time already. I don’t want to waste another second or... end up regretting it. Like last time.” His voice dropped to a hush, rough at the edges. “I want to hold on to you. Say it out loud that I like you. Romantically. Completely.” He smiled, crooked and real. “Our story isn’t some fairytale, princess. But I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

Aera laughed, light and bright, like something blooming. Their foreheads touched somehow, somewhere in all of that.

“Me too, idiot.” A pause. The kind that helf more than words. Then—

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” she whispered. Jungkook didn’t say a word. He simply leaned in and kissed her. His lips brushed hers, tentative and warm, trying to mirror what he’d seen in dramas and quiet corners of the world he’d only watched from afar.

Aera’s heart fluttered. It was her first kiss too, and she didn’t know what to do—only that she wanted this. So she tilted her head, letting him guide her, opening to him with quiet trust. Their lips moved gently, exploring the unfamiliar rhythm together. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs—sweet and slow.

The world around them dissolved. Nothing remained but breath—shared, shallow, trembling—and the feel of skin meeting skin, hands clinging like anchors in a rising tide. They could’ve stayed there forever, and it still wouldn’t have been enough. Aera tugged his lower lip between her teeth, slow and teasing, until Jungkook exhaled a raw, guttural sound that vibrated in her chest.

Challenge accepted.

He cupped her jaw, kissed her like he was starving—lips rough, tongue unrelenting—pinning her to the counter as though afraid she might disappear. She arched into him, fingers fisting his shirt, her breath catching on the moan he stole from her mouth. Everything burned. Skin, breath, want. His hands found her hips, dragging down, firm and certain. In one fluid motion, he lifted her onto the counter, the cool surface beneath her a sharp contrast to the fire between them. Her legs parted instinctively, and he stepped in, filling the space like he was made for it.

The heat of him pressed against her, and the sound they made—half-whimper, half-curse—was pure instinct.

“Fuck,” she breathed, breaking from his mouth just as he ground into her again, harder this time, sending sparks flying up her spine. The tension in his jeans was impossible to ignore—the hard line of him pressing against the fabric, begging for release. It stole the air from Aera’s lungs, her mind spiraling with thoughts far too vivid. The things he could do to her... the way she’d take him in return. Heat pooled low in her stomach, and she shifted where she was seated on the counter, restless under the weight of wanting.

She couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Jungkook,” she said, soft but urgent. He was pressed against her throat, kissing a trail along her skin—open-mouthed and hungry—his breath hot and uneven. Each kiss left a deeper flush, like he was marking her with fervour. He hummed in response, not stopping. She said his name again, firmer this time. Jungkook lifted his head. Her eyes met his—pupils blown wide, lips parted, her gaze glazed with need. There was nothing shy in the way she looked at him. She wanted to be taken, undone, devoured.

Jungkook’s eyes mirrored hers.

“Can we skip dinner?” she said, her voice unwavering as she tilted her head. “I want you to ruin me.”

The words hit him low and fast, desire coiling tight. A beat passed. Then came the smirk—slow, crooked, dangerous. Without a word, Jungkook turned, flicked off the oven that had beeped in protest, then spun back, grabbed her by the waist, and hoisted her into his arms. Her legs wrapped around him instinctively, bodies colliding with a shared gasp.

“Finally,” he murmured against her mouth. “You read my mind.”

Jungkook’s hand landed a playful, stinging slap on the underside of her thigh, drawing a gasp that melted into laughter from Aera. Without missing a beat, he carried her to his room with the quiet urgency of want. He laid her down gently onto the bed—freshly made, dressed in the softest sheets he could find, subtly scented with the fabric softener he always used. She sank into them, hair fanned out like a halo, eyes locked on his with a gleam that made his chest tighten and his body burn. Something in that look undid him. Desire coiled low in his belly, sharp and immediate. He pressed a hand to himself through his jeans, the pressure a poor substitute for what he really needed. A soft sound escaped him—half sigh, half whimper.

He didn’t want to rush, but his body was already aching for her.

Jungkook licked his lips, his gaze fixed on her as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. One by one, the fabric slipped away from his body until it hung open, then slid to the floor. He stepped out of his jeans next, leaving only the soft cotton of his boxers between him and the heat simmering in the room. If they were going to share themselves tonight—completely, without barriers—he wanted to meet her that way too: bare, open, unguarded.

Aera’s eyes traced every inch of him. The sharp lines of his torso, the way his muscles moved under skin, the black ink curling along his arm and across his chest—it made her throat tighten. He looked like something carved from want. Beautiful, and hers, only hers. She pushed herself up on one elbow, breath unsteady, and reached behind her. The zipper of her dress came down slowly, the sound small but full of promise in the quiet between them.

Jungkook knelt on the edge of the bed, his fingers slow and deliberate as he guided the straps of her dress off her shoulders. The fabric slid down her body like water, pooling at her waist before slipping away entirely. Her breasts fell free, her skin glowing under the soft, golden light. All that remained was a delicate lace thong—barely there, almost teasing.

He sucked in a breath, eyes darkening.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “So pretty. So beautiful. All for me, right?”

Aera’s voice was a whisper, thick with anticipation. “All for you.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Good girl. Do you mind if I touch you?”

She shook her head immediately. “No, not at all. Please… touch me, Sir.”

The word hung in the air like a spark. Jungkook arched his brow, surprised, but pleased.

“Sir, huh? Didn’t expect that from you,” he said, voice dipping lower. “But I’m not complaining.”

Aera’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t retreat. Instead, she reached for him, pulling him down until their mouths met in a kiss that was anything but shy.

He groaned into it, his body sinking over hers as his hands finally moved. He touched her like he’d been waiting for years—fingertips skimming her ribs, palms sliding down her waist, fingers curling around the curve of her thigh. Her skin was impossibly soft, the heat of her body pulling him deeper into the moment. Jungkook had never felt anything like this—this ache, this hunger. Every sigh from her lips, every shift of her hips beneath him, only fed the fire. He wasn’t just touching her. He was learning her. Claiming her. And he already knew—he was never letting go.